He Was a Soldier- Not a Spy
by The Miller's Daughter
Summary: Sergent James Buchanan Barnes was trained as a soldier. He wasn't trained to resist the torture of a spy. One-shot (Pre- Captain America: The Winter Soldier)


**He Was a Soldier- Not a Spy**

**(One-Shot)**

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><p>He fought it at first.<p>

Waking up and finding out that he'd become some kind of heinous HYDRA experiment- he killed almost twenty-seven people before he was subdued by the hired muscle that were supposed to protect the compound. The vibranium arm they'd gifted him with was their downfall and he refused to regret their fates.

They put him in a cell after that.

It was damp, dark and cold. He realised after the third day with no contact with anyone, not even receiving a scrap of food, that he wasn't going to be saved. He supposed the rest of the Commandos thought he was dead. He didn't blame them- how could he? When even he had expected to die. It was a miracle he hadn't.

Miracle. There was no such thing. There was science and magic- the tesseract had proven that- but there was no such thing as miracles. Surviving wasn't a miracle. Surviving, was a death sentence.

After Steve saved him the first time he knew something was different. Stronger. Faster. More Resistant. Not overly so. But enough for him to notice. The dull ache in his veins, the way his vision got clearer everyday. Something was different. He'd promised himself he'd tell Steve _everything_ as soon as the War was over- now that confession would never happen.

On the fourth day in his personal hell he saw an infuriatingly familiar face. Arnim Zola. The diminutive scientist brought four men with him. Three to hold the American soldier and one to turn him _bloody_.

"You have caused us a great deal of trouble Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky grinned up at him through blood stained teeth and spat the crimson blood at his feet. "Good."

"That sarcasm of yours won't last long Sergeant Barnes." Zola hissed. "Not when I'm through with you."

They left him not long after in a pool of his own blood. He healed quickly- but they were back the next day. They'd obviously stepped up their game because this time they brought knives. He was twenty-six years old and trained as a soldier- not a spy. Torture was unfamiliar to him but by now, pain was an old friend.

"It would be much easier if you didn't resist Sergeant Barnes. You will do what we wish eventually."

He could feel the blood dripping down his body but still he shook his head. "I'm telling you nothing asshole." His eyes shined with a forced bravado. "They'll find me- and you will meet your death."

Zola smirked, he knew what power he held over Bucky, and wasn't afraid to use it. "That is where you are wrong Sergeant Barnes. The war is over. Your Captain is lost." He dragged a pocket knife across the bloody soldier's chest. "And you are _alone_."

He'd snapped one of his captor's necks before they could even react. Bucky's scream of unadulterated rage echoed off the concrete walls of his cell, reverberating through the entire compound. A sickening crunch followed- he'd grabbed one of the men around the neck and slammed their head into the wall- the HYDRA soldier fell to the ground limp two seconds later.

The diminutive scientist jammed a syringe full of tranquilliser into Bucky's neck, emptying the cylinder into him smoothly. He dropped to his knees, his vision turned black and everything was dark.

The next time he woke he was in a metal chair.

His arms were locked in place by huge metal cuffs- and there was a metal strap across his waist that had the same metallic sheen as his left arm. He struggled against the restraints in vain- the scientist's laugher only fulling his desire to kill each and every HYDRA agent he could get his hands on.

"Much easier if you don't struggle Sergeant Barnes." Arnim Zola laughed as he stepped towards the restrained man. "Today is the day you embrace your future."

Before he could retort a leather guard was forced between his lips and clamps were pressed down over his head. One blocked his left eye whilst the other was pushed tight against the side of his head.

"Say goodbye Sergeant Barnes."

He screamed. Pain. Pure unbridled _pain_. Images flashed before his eyes.

_That scrawny kid he'd met when he was nine-years-old._

_The trouble they'd gotten into._

_The laughter. _

_'Don't do anything stupid while i'm gone!" - "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you!"_

The pain stopped and he breathed a sigh of relief. Light was shone into his uncovered eye- a stethoscope pressed against his chest and the leather ripped from his mouth.

"Who are you?"

"Sergeant James Barnes."

"Wrong answer soldier."

The machine was turned back on- the pain was somehow worse this time- harsher- more forceful. Images flashed once more.

_His first kiss._

_The baseball game he took Steve to celebrate their graduation._

_'Let's give it up for Captain America!'_

_'That skinny kid from Brooklyn? Him I'll follow.'_

"Who are you?" The voice asked again.

"Sergeant James Barnes." He choked.

Bucky had lost track of how many days they'd forced him into the metal chair- just as he'd lost track of a lot of things. He couldn't remember where he'd grown up anymore. The names of his parents. Where he went to school. He couldn't remember the girls or the places he'd been. He remembered the war- his allegiance to Steve- the five other men he'd fought beside. But even that was slipping.

They'd considered it a victory when he'd forgotten his title of Sergeant- and had celebrated when he'd stopped using his first name and began answering with 'Bucky' instead of James. Eventually the faces of the men he fought beside- the men he'd trusted with his life faded. Along with his last name.

"Who are you?"

"B-ucky." He croaked. Everything hurt. He had nothing left- no one was left to fight for.

_"I'm with you. Till the end of the line."_

"Who are you?"

"B-u-cky." He sighed. He was so tired. So, so tired.

_'It's you and me Buck. Even when we're at our worst- at least we'll have each other.'_

The pain finally drowned out the last scrap of resistance he had left- the voice in his head was _wrong._

"Who are you?"

He had _no one._

"Bu-"

"Who are you."

He was_ alone._

"B-"

"Who are you!"

_He was no one._

"I don't know."

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you enjoyed this little insight into Bucky's mindscape!<strong>

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**-The Miller's Daughter**


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